Chapter two

Hermione woke with a start. She could tell by the incessant twittering and singing of birds outside the window that it couldn't be long past dawn. Yet somehow her mind was wide awake – far away from the thoughtless world of dreams – and she knew she didn't have a hope of getting back to sleep. Sighing, she got up and decided that she might as well make the most of the time before the others dragged themselves out of bed, and have a soak in the bath.

This was her fourth morning in Diagon Alley – the last few days had past in something of a fun filled blur. Having left Hogwarts, Fred and George had not exactly outgrown their prankster personas – if anything being around their joke shop, developing new ways to trick people, 24/7 had made them worse. But the fact that they were no longer "breaking school rules" meant that Hermione was actually finding herself able to laugh along with the rest. Well, except for when the joke was on her of course. She was still sprouting occasional feathers in her hair.

There was only one bathroom on the floor she was staying on – though be under no illusions: it was considerably cleaner and more comfortable than your average communal washroom at a muggle B&B – so she wrapped a gown over her skimpy nightwear before hurrying down the corridor, wash bag in hand. Considering the rather ridiculously early hour she hadn't expected anyone else to be up, so it was something of a surprise when she rounded the corner and walked head first into a rather firm chest.

'Ouch! Merlin, what on earth…oh hello! What are you doing down there?'

Having fallen flat on her face, Hermione slowly raised her head, first seeing a pair of undoubtedly quidditch toned legs, black boxer shorts, a perfectly defined abdomen flecked with dark red hairs that began to lead her eyes back downwards again…

She quickly lifted her head and now found herself level with the object that had sent her flying in the first place – that firm muscular chest. Just above that was a head of red dishevelled hair, a face, roughly grazed with overnight stubble, grinning a little too much at Hermione's rather unfortunate current position, and a pair of blue, green flecked eyes full of amusement.

'George Weasley! Will you stop just standing there and help the girl you have just, rather unceremoniously, knocked over!'

'Knocked over? I would suggest that if said girl insists upon walking blindly around corners into poor, unsuspected men trying to get to their rooms, then she should perhaps have to get herself up…'

'Walking blindly! George, it's 7.00 in the morning! I was hardly expecting the corridors to be overflowing with crowds…now will you stop joking and give me a hand…why are you smiling?'

'Why Hermione, I would have offered you my hand already but I don't really want to risk being accused of sexual harassment...perhaps you should, er, retie that robe of yours first? Not that I'm completely averse to the idea of it remaining undone…'

'What are you…?' she started. She noticed that his eyes, however, did not appear to be trained upon her face anymore and so, following his gaze, looked down at her self. The robe she had thrown on rather hurriedly was now hanging open, revealing the only thing she'd found suitable to wear to bed in the oppressive August heat. Suffice to say it was hardly the most conservative items from her wardrobe she'd chosen: little shorts she hadn't worn out since she was twelve – now with a tendency to ride up – and a tight, black vest top. She blushed as deep red as the Weasley before her's hair, and proceeded to scramble to her feet, hurryingly trying to cover herself up.

George was, he had to admit, more than a little disappointed that the show appeared to be over. Her legs were so long and toned, and the cool morning air – or at least that was what he put it down to – meant her pert nipples had stood to attention through that scrap of material being worn as a top. Trying to snap himself out of it, he returned to the real world to find that she appeared to be hurrying away from him as fast as her rather lovely legs would carry her.

'Hey Herms, wait a second…' he said as she was just disappearing around the corner, 'where were you off to at this early hour?'

Still beetroot and reeling from the embarrassment of the situation, Hermione reluctantly stopped in her tracks and turned back to him.

'I, er, I was just going to have a, er, bath because I woke up early and, er, couldn't get back to sleep and, er…birds singing…not really tired…so…er…' she mumbled in reply.

'Funnily enough that's where I just came from! Thought I'd get to the shop early - I'm fairly sure Fred's been there all night…he's been working on some new project. I swear he can get as bad as Percy was with his cauldron bottoms when he's really into something…' he trailed off.

'Well, um, I'll be off then…to the bath, you know…' Hermione managed.

They both stood and stared at each other for another few moments. George wasn't really sure why he'd called her back in the first place – perhaps only to extend the pleasure he got from looking at the tousled, sleepy beauty before him. Hermione wondered to. He seemed to just be staring at her, and her thoughts turned to what a fright she must be looking to have made him temporarily voiceless. Her hand moved quickly to her head, in an attempt to flatten her undoubtedly unruly morning hair, and she was suddenly conscious of the remnants of yesterday's mascara that probably sat beneath her eyes. George just smiled inwardly at her sudden attack of insecurity, thinking she looked more than a little cute.

If it hadn't been for the big, brown owl which sped down the corridor and straight into Hermione's head right at that moment, they might have stood there all day. Instead, however, Hermione found herself being knocked to the floor, for the second time that morning.

'Merlin, Hermione, are you alright?' George said, as he rushed to do the gentleman-like thing this time, and helped her to her feet.

She rubbed the side of her head, but pleased, if anything, that she had managed to hold her gown together this time. After assuring George that she was alright, she moved over to the owl and untied the message from around its foot, finding that it was addressed to the red head. She passed the message on to him, beginning to think that her relaxing soak in the tub just was not meant to be.

'It's from Fred – he thinks he's finally had a breakthrough! Doesn't mention just what it is he's had a breakthrough on though…he wants me to open up the shop while he goes down to Knockt-, er, well somewhere else to get a few more ingredients…'

Hermione's eyes had narrowed at what George had nearly let slip – he was fairly sure she knew he'd been about to mention Knockturn Alley. Seeing the prefect within her awakening, all other thoughts were pushed temporarily from his mind and his common sense told him to get away – quick! Making his excuses, he continued down the hall, back to his room, and threw on some clothes. He didn't allow his brain to process exactly what had happened – or how he had been feeling – during his brief corridor encounter, until he was alone and minding the shop. The only certainty in his head was the pure desire he felt for a certain brunette right now.

That brunette was now doing laps in the large rectangular pool-like bath, not dissimilar to that used by the prefects at Hogwarts. Though the steam and the bubbles relaxed her muscles, and the cloudy depths smoothed her hair, the bath did not have the desired effect of calming her over-active mind. Now, in fact, it had many more new ideas and thoughts to contend with and - she was sure - none of the answers to the questions she was now asking herself would be found in your average textbook. Rather unnerved at the thought of her usual resort being redundant, she told herself she was just being stupid. She couldn't think like this about George Weasley. Aside from the fact that he was her best friend's brother and stood for all the rule breaking and chaos she generally found herself despising, he was never in a million years going to think about her like that.

A/N: Cheers to my first reviewer, sandiwandi, very much appreciated and glad you liked it! It was you, in fact, who inspired me to update so promptly! I quite like this chapter and think it's a bit better than the first which was a little rushed..

Anyways, review more people, and I'll update more!

PS. Apologies if the formatting is a little screwed up – I haven't quite go the hang of the system yet…